The Last Princess
by BathshebaRocks
Summary: Why is Han Solo still with the rebel force on the Ice Planet Hoth? Why didn't he take his reward and go to pay off Jabba? Perhaps his feelings for a certain princess got in the way - this short story imagines what might have happened.Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

_**I've often wondered why Han Solo is still around when the rebels are camped on the ice planet Hoth at the beginning of 'The Empire Strikes Back'. This story is my explanation for why he didn't do the sensible thing at the end of 'A New Hope', take his reward to go and pay off Jabba. Although the Star Wars empire belongs to George Lucas, this story is dedicated to **_**jzhanfan**_**, as it is very much inspired and influenced by her lovely (though sadly not yet complete) story 'Three Long Weeks'**_

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><p><em><strong>Han and Luke have rescued princess Leia from the first Death Star, but it takes them more than a day to get back to the rebel base on the moon of Lavin and during that time relationships between the characters develop.<strong>_

"_So, do ya think a princess and a guy like me….?"_

Han Solo had been joking when he asked the question, knowing he would get a rise out of his young friend. Even so, he'd been taken aback at the vehemence of Luke's reaction; the torch which the kid was carrying for their newest passenger burned more brightly than he had realised.

Maybe the joke was on him though, as he was unprepared for the surge of anger which Luke's dismissive response provoked. As long as he got his money, why did he care what the princess thought of him.

Besides it wasn't exactly the time or the place to be contemplating romance, or even just plain sex. He didn't want to begin to analyse why he was giving Princess Leia Organa a second thought. If he had any sense, he would be concentrating on getting to Lavin, offloading his passengers and getting out of there with his reward before the entire Imperial Fleet came after them.

Even as he adjusted the instruments and set their course, he found her image drifting into his mind - a lovely vision until it was tempered with her harsh words. What was it about her that had this effect on him? Okay she was brave, he admired that. Resourceful too, that was another point in her favour. Yeah, and attractive, undeniably attractive. He felt a rush of heat at the thought of how her wet Senator's robes had clung to her shapely figure after their escape from the compactor.

It was just a shame that she didn't seem to feel the same way about him; he strongly suspected that behind that ridiculous hairstyle was a beautiful woman just waiting to be revealed.

The ships' instruments were indicating an eighteen-hour journey time to their destination so, belatedly remembering his manners, Han decided to attend to the comfort of his passengers.

"Hey kid, howdya like Chewie to show you how to fly this thing?" He turned to the boy in the co-pilot's seat.

Luke's expression lit up with excitement, bringing a smile to Han's face. He'd judged that right. He summoned his Wookie friend and co-pilot to the flight deck, along with the irritating protocol droid Cee-Threepio. He doubted Luke had learnt much of the Wookie language on that backwater Tatooine, so he'd need a translator.

"I'll leave you to it then, I'm just going to check that our illustrious passenger is comfortable." He left without responding to Luke's scowl, as the younger man realised that he had been outmanoeuvred.

Leia was also scowling as she stalked off down the corridor. She'd met some arrogant, self-centred men in her time – it was only to be expected as she was one of the youngest members of the Senate, and a woman in a man's universe – but Han Solo was something else. How in space Obi-Wan and Luke had ended up travelling with him, she couldn't begin to fathom.

The thought of Luke brought a smile to replace the scowl. He was so sweet, and so obviously smitten by her. She was quite happy to bask in his adoration. Even so, there was something very naïve about it. She was willing to bet that he didn't have much experience with women.

That train of thought led inevitably back to Captain Solo. She had absolutely no doubt that he was very experienced with women. A couple of times she'd caught him looking at her with a gaze that made her shiver inside. '_Honestly, Leia_,' she berated herself, trying to dismiss the traitorous thought of how good it had felt when they had briefly hugged in celebration of their narrow escape from the Death Star trash compactor.

All in all they were the most unlikely rescue party, but against the odds they had pulled it off. She was alive…

Without warning she collapsed to her knees, her body racked with sobs, unable to hold back the emotions. Mother, father, her younger brothers and sisters were all dead. One minute they had been getting on with their lives and the next: disintegrated. Her grief was so all-consuming that she didn't hear the approaching clang of boots on the metal walkway, and it took her several moments to realise that someone had crouched down beside her.

"Hey, Princess," a familiar voice said, but with a gentleness of tone she hadn't previously heard from him. He didn't waste his breath asking what was wrong, but just slipped an arm around her waist to help her to her feet. "I'll take you to the galley, you can sit down comfortably and have a drink."

Leia forced a smile through the tears.

"Thinking about Alderan, huh?" Han asked, as he sat her down in the small eating area and poured a steaming hot mug of kaffe.

"How did you know?"

"I didn't think you were the kind of girl to bawl her eyes out just because she'd got a bit of grease on her best robe," he responded, with that heart-stopping grin of his.

She couldn't help but respond with a weak smile of her own. "My robes do smell pretty high, now you mention it," she said, wrinkling her nose in a gesture of disgust.

"There's a fresher in my cabin, you can take a shower if you like, and use the auto-valet. We've got a long flight to the rebel base, you should get some rest."

"I'm fine," she replied, trying to ignore the tears that threatened once again. Why did he have to be so nice all of a sudden, and why should that make her feel so sad.

Han watched as her inner turmoil was played out in the expressions on her face. He regretted his earlier arrogance, even though he knew her grief had nothing at all to do with him. He wasn't a cruel man, and he didn't want her to think badly of him. It was crazy that he should even care, considering that in a couple of days he'd be halfway across the galaxy and he'd probably never see her again.

"Come here, sweetheart," he murmured softly, and slid along the seat to put an arm around her shoulders.

Leia responded instinctively, not even stopping to think what a bad idea this was. Turning into his embrace, she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his shoulder. Her sobbing grew stronger, even as he gently stroked her back with his free hand.

He had no idea how long they sat there; he didn't even care that she still smelled of the Death Star's foulest refuse. All he could think of was how soft and warm her body felt in his arms. He lowered his head and brushed his lips softly over her cheek.

Leia soaked up the comfort that he offered. Just for a few minutes she didn't care that he was a heartless mercenary; right now what he was offering was exactly what she needed and she accepted it gratefully. A part of her wished that she could stay there for ever, just having him hold her, but that just wasn't her destiny. She was Leia Organa, last princess of Alderaan, and with that title came a responsibility that lay all the heavier now.

"I've made your shirt all wet," she said, forcing a smile as she pulled away.

"It needs a wash," Han replied with a shrug. "Come on sweetheart, you need to get some rest, you've been through a lot."

That was the understatement of the decade, Leia thought, as she let him take her hand and lead her back along the corridor to his quarters. He didn't know the half of it. She hadn't said anything to Han or Luke about the tortures she had suffered at the hands of Darth Vader. She wasn't sure she would ever share that knowledge.

Han's cabin was surprisingly spacious. The Falcon was the only real home he had, so he'd extended his sleeping quarters into the storage bay to give himself room for a double bunk and an extra -large fresher with a real water shower. It was also, to Leia's critical eye, surprisingly tidy. She had to admit the bed looked very inviting. It had real bedding, not the standard issue sleep-sac she'd become used to on her senate missions.

She realised that Han was watching her with an amused look in his eyes, and composed her features into a serious expression while he explained where the facilities were. He dug a shirt out of one of the lockers and handed it to her.

"I'll leave you to it then, I better check on the kid," he concluded, but before turning to leave he took her hand and brushed his lips across the palm. "Get some sleep," he ordered firmly.

He returned to the flight deck to find Luke still engrossed in his flying lesson. Han stood silently in the doorway watching as the kid followed Chewie's instructions. He was a quick study, Han decided. That battle with the Tie fighters hadn't been a fluke after all.

"You're doing great, kid," he said, stepping forward, "but you and Chewie should get some rest. I'll call you in a few hours. Chewie will show you where the spare crew bunks are."

Han savoured the silence of the empty flight deck, interrupted only by the occasional beep of the instruments. He certainly wasn't where he'd expected to be. Sure he'd needed a ticket out of Mos Eisley, and a well-paid one at that. He was on his last chance from Jabba and didn't like to think about what would happen if he didn't return to that evil slime-bag soon with the credits he owed him.

It was true that he hadn't banked on earning this money the hard way. An escape from the Death Star and the rescue of a princess hadn't figured in his plans, but the money which both feats would bring him would be enough to pay off Jabba, and then some.

'_If money is all you crave, that is what you shall have_', Han winced as he recalled the princess' bitter jibe. It was alright for her, he thought, unkindly. He had no doubt that she had lived a privileged life, with retainers to attend to her every whim.

'_Snap out of it, Solo_,' he berated himself. He'd chosen to leave his family, while she'd had hers torn from her in the most brutal way possible. He had no right to judge her.

It didn't stop him from thinking about her. He tried to concentrate on practical matters: would the credits he'd earn from this mission be enough to pay off Jabba? Should he go straight back to Tatooine once he'd dropped off his passengers, and if not what were his options? However hard he tried though, the image of the princess kept creeping back into his mind. He was sure that four hours had never passed so slowly.

Eventually the exhaustion caught up with him. He would need to rest before they arrived, particularly if he wanted a quick turnaround. Setting the controls to auto-pilot, he set off to find Luke and Chewie.

Han was pleased to note that they both smelt a lot better. The Wookie must have gotten himself a wash-down somehow, and Luke's clothes had been through the auto-valet. He would need t clean up too. If Leia was sound asleep, he could sneak back into his quarters and use the water-shower. The lights were dim as he entered the room. He stopped for a moment and heard her low even breathing.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see that she'd taken the shirt he'd offered her to sleep in. She must have shrugged off the covers in her sleep and it had ridden up to her thighs revealing a pair of shapely legs. She'd undone those ridiculous buns and her luxuriant brunette hair was spread over the pillow.

Han took a step closer and leant in, breathing in her perfume. She must have found the scented wash left behind by a previous lady-friend of his. Great, he thought, that would just reinforce her view that he was a heartless womaniser.

He took his time in the shower, successfully washing off every last vestige of the Death Star, but less successfully trying to stop himself from thinking about the woman now sleeping in his bed.

When he finally got out, she had turned over in her sleep and was facing him. The baggy sleep shirt had slipped down off one shoulder, revealing her creamy soft skin and the faint swell of her breasts underneath the fabric. She looked so peaceful; it was all that Han could do to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. As he watched, she sighed and turned over again, snuggling up against the wall.

Without giving himself any more time to think, Han reached for a pair of sleep pants from his wardrobe, and hauled himself up into the bed. He smiled at the thought of the dressing down he'd be sure to get when she woke, but he didn't care. It was his ship and he certainly wasn't going to spend an uncomfortable few hours on one of the benches in the galley. This bunk was big enough for two he thought, as he put a pillow between himself and the princess to give at least a semblance of decency. Within minutes he was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks to the small and select group who read and reviewed Chapter 1 - few in number but each one much appreciated!**_

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><p>Years spent travelling the darkest reaches of the galaxy, and sailing on the fringes of legality had made Han a very light sleeper. It seemed that he had barely dozed off when he was woken by the sound of Leia's voice.<p>

"No, please, not that," she was moaning, softly. He could tell from her posture and breathing that she was still asleep; she must be having a nightmare. Sharing a bed with her suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea after all. He wrapped his bedding round his head, trying to muffle the sound, but it didn't work. She sounded uncomfortably pitiful, and Han experienced sensation he hadn't felt for a very long time.

He couldn't help himself; he turned over to face her. He'd be willing to bet his entire fee for this trip that she would be furious to find him in bed with her, but still the impulse to comfort her was overwhelming. The memory of how she'd cried in his arms only a few hours ago was still vivid.

"Shh, Leia, sweetheart; you're safe now," he whispered, as he extended a comforting hand onto her shoulder.

She didn't wake immediately; her eyes were still shut as she turned over. Han eased himself closer, slipping one arm under her waist to pull her into his embrace. That movement woke her. Her eyes opened slowly at first, then wide with surprise as she realised where she was; and with whom.

Han anticipated her reaction, putting a finger to her lips he interjected quickly, "you were having a nightmare, sweetheart."

"Mmm-huh," she murmured, wincing. The memories were all too vivid, whether she was awake or asleep. She felt too weak to struggle out of Han's arms, even though she knew she should. For a man who didn't care about anyone except himself he was doing a pretty good job of offering her comfort and reassurance. Her head was pressed up against his shoulder so she couldn't see his face, but she let herself savour the feeling of his arms around her, and inhaled the fresh scent of his after-shave. It wasn't one she recognised, but she had a feeling she wouldn't forget the understated yet exotic fragrance in a hurry.

Han felt her soften against him, and loosened his grip in response. One hand slid down her back, travelling over the curves of her perfect little behind, reaching the bare flesh of her legs. As his fingers traced soft patterns on the outside of her thighs, he felt her shudder in response. His touch was light, merely ghosting over her skin. It was as much comforting as carnal, but to Leia it evoked powerful and unexpected sensations.

She lifted her head from where it rested against his shoulder, so that she could look at his face. His expression was uncharacteristically gentle, but something about the way he looked at her made her feel as if her insides had melted.

Of all the places in the universe to find herself, this had to be the most unlikely. Now fully awake, her mind began to race. She'd been naïve and foolish when she set out on her mission. All those arguments she'd had with other senators came back to her, filling her with a sickening embarrassment. She'd been so vehement in her conviction that her status as an imperial senator and a princess of Alderaan would protect her. That's what came of living a life of privilege, of never facing any real hardship, growing up surrounded by a loving family. Naturally she'd admired the rebellion as all her contemporaries did. The rebels were exciting and glamorous, but also rather unreal. Even though she didn't like the Emperor, and didn't trust him, she'd never believed that he could do real harm. He was a dictator but she had believed him to be a benevolent one.

That comfortable fiction had been brutally stripped away and, for the first time, she realised the full horror of her situation, and of the situation facing every planet in the empire. No-one was safe, nothing was predictable any more. Her world had turned upside down, she thought; then dismissed that as a meaningless cliché. There was no world; no certainty; no stability. A chill shuddered through her body, a chill that was more than fear. The torture she had faced on the Death Star was nothing compared to how she felt now. She was in a dark and shapeless void, spinning out of control. At this moment the only thing, the only person she could rely on was the man lying next to her in the dark.

The chances of him being able to save her, to get her and Luke to a place of safety, seemed remote. The ship was barely holding together, how could it possibly outrun the Imperial fleet. These could be the last days of her life, the last hours even.

Han lay still, watching her and wondering what was going through her mind. She was looking at him, but he could tell that she wasn't really seeing him; her gaze seemed to travel right through him into the far distance. Still, he maintained the gentle pressure of his fingers on her soft skin. It seemed to calm her, and it certainly gave him pleasure, so where was the harm.

He'd expected her to push him away. He wouldn't have been at all surprised if she had given him a slap – he knew he deserved it. However much he might try to protest that his only intention was to offer her comfort, the messages his body was sending said something very different indeed.

She didn't pull away; instead her small, warm, hands explored the muscles and skin of his back. He responded with his own exploration, his hands moving to her inner thighs and then higher, grazing the fabric of her panties.

She murmured his name, as if giving him permission, and responded to his intimate attentions by slipping her hands under the waist band of his sleep pants.

Even as she did so, she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Was she really going to do this? The sensation of physical desire was almost overwhelming; her whole body ached with wanting him. The lightest touch of his hands sent jolts of electricity through her. Her hands seemed to have a will of their own. She didn't bother to waste the energy of arguing with herself, there was so little time left to her, and right now she felt as if she were in a parallel universe where the normal rules no long applied.

Han couldn't help but jolt back in shock at the feel of her hands caressing his naked behind. He hadn't intended to force himself on her and now suddenly things were spinning out of his control. Every instinct told him that this was a really bad idea.

Leia stiffened in reaction to his sudden change of mood. She'd done something wrong.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on," she stammered, her face flushed. She didn't have much experience with men but the one thing she had learned, during her teenage fumblings with boys on Alderaan, was that to give them false encouragement when you had no intention of following through, was one of the worst things you could do.

Han responded with a smile so gentle that she could feel herself melting all over again.

"You haven't done anything wrong," he said, kindly, "I just let myself get a bit carried away there. It won't happen again, Princess." There was no trace of his usual sarcasm as he used her title. Pulling the big shirt down so it covered her thighs, he wrapped his arms chastely around her waist and guided her head back into the crook of his neck.

"Han," Leia asked, so softly he could barely hear her, "promise me you won't tell anyone about this."

"There's nothing to tell, nothing happened, after all." He raised an eyebrow to indicate disappointment, but kept his expression light with just a hint of mockery.

"Thanks to you, not me," she retorted, sounding bitter.

"What's the matter?" he asked with a wry grin, "are you ashamed of me."

"No, it's not that. It just seems wrong somehow; the rebellion is facing its greatest ever threat and all I'm thinking about are my own selfish desires."

Han caught her by the arm, "Honestly Leia, I don't think sleeping with me would make any difference to the outcome. Besides what do you think half the people on Lavin are doing right now?"

Leia sighed, looking unconvinced by his argument. Han resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. If it was anyone else he would probably have told her to pull herself together, but he knew what she had been through. He had a good idea what was really going on inside that lovely head of hers.

"I know you feel guilty, you're still alive and so many of those who you love are dead. It's only natural."

Tears pricked at her eyes as she snapped back at him: "So you're the expert psychiatrist now are you, as well as number one hot-shot pilot."

Han said nothing, just pulled her back into his embrace as she struggled to contain her tears.

"Fine," he whispered softly, "if it makes you feel better I won't say a word to anyone."

"Thank you," she said, with a weak smile.

"I need to see how Luke is getting on. You should get some more sleep. Just come and find us when you're ready."

Leia snuggled back into the bunk, pulling the bedding up around her face. It smelled of Han, which she found strangely comforting. She must have slept, although she had no idea for how long, but it was a wonderfully dreamless sleep with no nightmares to haunt her. She awoke with the slightly sick and dazed feeling of someone who has slept too long.

Searching out her robes, which someone – Han she supposed – had hung up neatly behind the door, she tied her hair up in a simple bun and set out in search of the rest of their little crew.

"About time you joined us, your highness," Han said, coldly, as Leia slipped quietly onto the flight deck.

She opened her mouth to respond; then thought better of it. She'd asked him to pretend nothing had happened between them, she could hardly complain when he did just that.

"Right," he continued, "our ETA is in three hours' time, and things are going to get hectic for all of us, so I suggest we eat. Leia, you can help Chewie in the galley, Luke and I'll adjust our approach."

"Excuse me, I'm not your servant," Leia snapped back, riled by his condescending tone.

"Fine, your worship, you fly the ship, and I'll make breakfast." He felt a twinge of guilt at being so harsh, but she'd asked him to treat her as if she were a stranger to him, and as far as he was concerned that was exactly what he was doing.

"You were a bit hard on her," Luke commented, warily, once they were alone on the flight deck.

"Right, so you think because she's a princess we should all wait on her, hand and foot?"

"No, that's not what I mean. It's just that she's had such a hard time, you could be a little kinder to her."

Han rolled his eyes. It was a lose-lose situation, and a powerful reminder of why he avoided getting involved with women.

"Look kid, this ship doesn't carry passengers. She asked to be treated just like everyone else, and that's what I'm doing, right." It was clear from his tone that the discussion was at an end.

Luke looked away, focussing on the panel of instruments. An uncomfortable silence hung between them, as the boy's body language radiated his disapproval.

"Fine," Han said with a sigh, "I'll go and apologise if it makes you feel better."

"No…" Luke started, but it was too late; the Captain had left the bridge.

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><p>I really wish I understood Shryliwook, Leia thought, as she busied herself in the small galley making kaffe and porridge for everyone. Chewie was, in theory, helping although his oversized frame just seemed to get in the way. She couldn't help giving voice to her thoughts anyway, even though she had no idea what his responses meant. They sounded sympathetic, and that was the best she could hope for.<p>

If anyone could explain the enigma that was Han Solo, it would be his co-pilot. But then, why did she care anyway, she berated herself. She'd only just avoided a terrible error of judgement, it had been a moment of weakness which she could excuse but had no intention of repeating.

So deep was she in thought, that she didn't hear the subject of her musings as he let himself into the galley.

"Hey sweetheart, how you doin'" he smiled, slipping his arms around her waist and swaying their bodies together gently.

"Take your hands off me," Leia said, coldly.

"That's not what you said last night," Han retorted, with a wink at Chewie.

Leia pulled herself away and turned to face him. "Last night never happened. We will not speak of it again." There was no mistaking the authority of the woman who had been a senator since the age of sixteen.

"Yes, your worship, of course, whatever you command," Han replied with a mocking bow.

"I'll take Luke his kaffe," she continued. "You can pour your own." With that rebuff, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the galley.

"What are you looking at?" Han growled at Chewie.

The Wookie let loose an uncharacteristic volley of anger. How could Han exploit a vulnerable girl like Leia, he should be ashamed of himself. Amongst his kind, that behaviour would never be tolerated. Wookies may be fearsome creatures on the battlefield, but in their home lives they were the gentlest of creatures, mating early and mating for life.

"Look I didn't mean for it to happen, it just….did, kind of," Han's voice trailed off lamely, as his co-pilot expressed his disapproval in no uncertain terms.

"Captain Solo," Cee-threepio shuffled into the galley, his manner as officious as always, "Master Luke has asked me to inform you that the Millenium Falcon is approaching the planet Lavin."

Han waved him away and strode off in the direction of the bridge. This was one voyage which he would be very glad to have done with.

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><p>A small welcome party was waiting for them at the rebel base on Lavin's fourth moon. There was no time for pleasantries though, as General Rieken confirmed Leia's suspicions that the <em>Millennium Falcon<em> had indeed been tracked by the Death Star. The giant space station was only a few hours behind them.

"General," Leia said, taking the base commander to one side, "Obi-wan promised Captain Solo payment for his mission: fifteen thousand credits."

The general's eyes widened; that would just about clean out the reserves they held on this small base. Still, he thought wryly, he wouldn't want to take odds on any of them being around to spend it. It didn't lessen his disgust for the mercenary who was willing to take his profit while brave men faced their last hours of existence. Grimly, he nodded his agreement. "Tell Captain Solo it will be brought from the stores immediately. Then I suggest he gets his ship out of here as quickly as possible."

General Reiken's attention was diverted by the other unlikely member of the rescue party. The boy looked barely old enough to shave, but he was eager in his determination to join the rebellion.

"I know I can do it," he was almost pleading in his eagerness to be given a chance. "I've flown speeders and pod-racers. I passed all the entrance exams for the Academy, I was just waiting for my Uncle to let me go."

The General smiled kindly at him – it really didn't matter if he crashed before he'd even left the base, their chances of success were so slim.

Leia, meanwhile, had sought out Han, who was checking his ship for damage.

"I've arranged your fee," she spat at him, her voice heavy with disgust. As she turned to walk away, Han shot out a hand and gripped her tightly by the arm. She didn't struggle, but refused to turn and meet his eyes.

He'd given the speech a hundred times, to a hundred different women, explaining that it was nothing personal, that he had business to attend to, that maybe he'd be back this way sometime. This time the words were dry and bitter in his mouth.

"Leia," he was pleading for her understanding, "I would stay and fight with your rebellion if I could, but there's something I have to deal with. It is a matter of life or death, nothing else would make me leave you."

She didn't reply, just shook her head. The truth was that she didn't trust herself to speak. He was a heartless, mercenary rogue and she hated him. He was the man who had been there for her on the worst night of her life, who had held her and comforted her. She didn't want him to go, but who was she to insist he stayed to face certain death like the rest of them.

"Come with me," he said, as if he could read her thoughts. It was a crazy idea, and he knew she would refuse even as he uttered the words.

"You need to go." Her voice had softened, the anger had seeped away. "You've made your contribution by rescuing me and the plans to the Death Star. I'll always be grateful for that."

Reluctantly he let her go. There was a finality in her tone and her statement, and he knew her well enough to realised that there was no point in arguing.

"Fire her up, Chewie," he yelled as he turned and strode up the ramp and onto the Falcon.


	3. Chapter 3

Han stood, half hidden in the shadows, as he watched the young pilots celebrating. They all knew that destroying one battleship wouldn't bring down the Empire, even if that battleship was as powerful as the Death Star, but right now who could begrudge them their dreams.

He felt a pang of sorrow for his own lost youth; it seemed an eternity since anything in his life had been uncomplicated. That feeling was quickly replaced by another emotion as he watched the slender figure of Princess Leia move amongst the pilots, rewarding each with a word, a hug or a kiss. Han scowled as Luke got all three. The kiss she gave him was not a brief peck either, but a lingering one whose power could be felt right across the hangar.

Fine, Han thought, with more than a hint of jealousy. They were so much better suited; closer in age and, despite Luke's humble background, there was something about him which suggested that there was a lot more to the kid than met the eye.

Besides, he had Jabba to worry about. He should have been back on Tatooine already. "C'mon Chewie," he muttered, "let's get this baby ready to go again, we need to get out of here."

The Wookie growled something incomprehensible, probably a Shryliwook curse, Han thought as he watched his co-pilot climb the gangplank up to the Falcon.

He turned, and was about to follow him, when he became aware of a figure approaching. Leia. A broad grin briefly lit up his face, but he supressed it and composed his features into a blank expression as the princess drew near.

"You came back for us," she whispered, stepping in close and reaching up to run a hand over the stubble of his cheek.

'_I came back for you_,' Han mentally corrected her, but said nothing. Instead he took the hand that was caressing his face and brought it round to kiss the palm. He didn't let go, but stroked the delicate fingers, massaging them softly. Leia closed her eyes. She hadn't realised how tense she still was, but that all melted away under his expert touch. Her lips parted slightly and Han felt a thrill of excitement. Unable to stop himself he bent down to kiss her.

Leia pulled back as if she'd had an electric shock. "Han, not here, people will see," she looked around wildly, but the gang of pilots were already on their way out of the hangar in search of people to share their celebration.

Han gestured in their direction, "No they won't," he reassured her as he pulled her back into his kiss, running his hands down her back to pull her closer against him, lifting her off the ground and into his embrace. Leia reached up and tangled her hands in his hair. Nothing she had ever experienced compared to the way Han held her, or kissed her; her body took control and there was nothing her conscious mind could do about it.

No-one watching could mistake this for anything other than what it was, and the two young men in the security control room most certainly didn't. "Way to go, Solo!" one smirked, trying and failing to supress his admiration, as they both leaned in to the monitor get a closer look.

"I have to get back to the party," Leia murmured as she pulled away, reluctantly. "People will miss me."

Han shrugged casually, as if it meant nothing to him. As she turned to go he slipped a piece of paper under the belt of her battledress. "If you change your mind, it's the security code for the Falcon," he whispered low in her ear, "don't be giving it to anyone else though."

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><p>It took Leia a few minutes to change. By the time she re-joined the rest of the rebels, they were partying with a fervour that only people who had looked death in the eye and survived could generate.<p>

Some of the pilots had found instruments and had put together a makeshift band, which made up in enthusiasm for what it lacked in talent. As the males of the various species represented in the rebel alliance greatly outnumbered the females, Leia and the others of her sex found themselves greatly sought after as dance partners. She swung from one man to another, laughing and kissing as she went. Her mind was spinning with a mixture of relief and excitement, pushing the memory of her brief embrace with Han to one side.

Meanwhile Han lay on his bunk, a towel wrapped around his waist. He'd washed off the sweat of battle in the 'fresher, and thought about going into the base to join the celebrations, which he fully expected to be wild. The truth was that he really had very little to celebrate. He still had to face Jabba; who knew how long that would take and what the outcome would be. Surprisingly though that didn't trouble him nearly as much the feelings he had for the princess. Having feelings for any woman was something he tried his hardest to avoid. He'd chosen a life on the run, and it was the price he had to pay.

Oblivious to her presence in Han's thoughts, Leia danced with Luke, and Wedge, and even with General Reiken. Unfortunately for her, the General was not the most co-ordinated of dancers and managed to swing into the path of a young pilot who was carrying a tray of foaming purple cocktails. She managed a few choice curses as the vivid liquid soaked right through her best – her only – set of dress robes. Brushing away the General's hapless attempts to clean up the mess, she pushed through the crowd back to her quarters. It was only when she reached the cramped room that she realised how much she needed the moments of quiet.

As she sat on the narrow bunk, she noticed a scrap of paper on the floor. It was the code that Han had given her. She shook her head at the thought of him. He was so completely unsuitable. She'd called him a scoundrel, and although she now knew that was unfair, he was certainly no gentleman. Not like Luke, he was such a sweet boy, brave, but still so innocent. She could hardly believe that she'd known him barely a few days. It felt as if he'd been in her life for ever.

Her mother and father would have liked Luke, she was sure. His origins were far too humble for them to have considered him a suitable husband for a princess of Alderaan, but they would have welcomed him into their house as a friend. She laughed out loud at the thought of inviting Han. For a start she couldn't imagine him in a smart uniform. She doubted if he owned any clothes that weren't crumpled, and didn't smell of oil. That scent seemed to permeate the room as she closed her eyes and thought of him.

She'd stripped down to her underwear, but all she could find to wear was an old but serviceable boiler suit just a size too big for her. She belted it round the waist and twisted her head to check the effect in the small mirror. It wasn't exactly a party outfit, even if she left the front zipper low enough to show a hint of cleavage. She wasn't in the mood to go back to the party. She shouldn't have thought about her family; one day she might be able to visualise them without it hurting, but that day was long away. Her quarters were too claustrophobic – intended for sleeping but not much else. Without really knowing where she was going, she left, closing the door quietly behind her.

She looked around furtively as her footsteps echoed around the deserted hangar. She had nothing to be ashamed of, she reminded herself. Why shouldn't she walk anywhere on the base, and besides by now everyone else would be too intoxicated with spirits, music, dancing and victory to care. Well maybe everyone but one person, the unlikely battle hero who had chosen not to show up at the party.

Han heard the unmistakable sound of the Falcon's main door sliding open then shutting with a soft clang. There wasn't time to get dressed, but he grabbed a blaster and pulled the towel more tightly around his waist as he edged carefully through the corridors.

He wasn't sure who was the most surprised when he met his unexpected visitor.

Leia blushed bright red at the sight of him, unable to tear her eyes away from the muscular chest criss-crossed with the scars of a man who could never manage to stay out of a fight.

For his part, his gaze was drawn to the tantalising glimpse of her perfect breasts underneath the ridiculous, oversized boiler suit. For once he was lost for words.

"Party not swinging enough for you princess," was the best he could manage but he winced at how clumsy he sounded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you in the middle of anything," Leia replied, trying her best to hide the fact she felt small and stupid by adopting her most imperious tone. Of course, he was with a woman. She should have realised that there was a good reason why he hadn't come to the party. "I'll leave you to your company."

"No!" Realising that she had misread the situation, Han reached out and grabbed at Leia's arm, in the process losing his towel.

Her blush spread down her neck and she turned away, not sure where to look. It was, Han realised, that combination of feisty bravery with an underlying innocence which made her so very attractive.

Laughing to hide his sudden awkwardness he stooped down to pick up the towel, in the process dropping his blaster. It skidded across the metal walkway and struck a pillar. He had to jump to avoid getting his feet blown off.

It was his turn to look embarrassed, and Leia took full advantage.

"Someone should have put the safety catch on," she quipped sarcastically.

"Oh really, princess, which safety catch were you thinking of?" He glanced down to make his meaning clear.

"Just cover yourself up," Leia scowled unconvincingly. She couldn't stop the corners of her mouth turning up as she grabbed the towel and threw it back at him.

"Join me for a kaffe?" he asked, keeping the question casual even though he was feeling anything but. He really, really didn't want her to leave.

Leia shrugged. "Sure," she was trying just as hard to sound as if it meant nothing to her whether she stayed or left.

Han ducked into his cabin to grab a pair of sleep pants while Leia walked on down to the galley. By the time he caught up with her, she had the machine brewing noisily and was occupying herself wiping down the work surfaces.

"That's Chewie's job," Han noted, "I don't want to let him off the hook."

Leia flashed him a brilliant smile. She felt more comfortable with him when he was being sarcastic; it was almost like a safety barrier between them. As she glanced at the low-slung pants which revealed a taut stomach, hip-bones protruding above the waist band, she had a feeling that the barrier wouldn't stay up for too long.

"I'm getting mighty thirsty here," Han quipped. He wasn't a vain man, but having Leia's eyes roam appreciatively over his torso gave him a warm glow.

As she poured the steaming brown liquid, he rifled through the storage compartment under the seat and pulled out a dusty bottle.

"What is that?" Leia sounded suspicious.

"Corellian Whisky. It tastes better than it looks – care to join me?"

"I hope you're not trying to get me drunk so you can seduce me"

"I don't have to get you drunk for that, believe me, unless I'm losing my touch," he smirked.

"Why you arrogant…."

Han put a finger up to her mouth before she could continue.

"Yes I know, you've told me before. Trouble is, we both know it's true, otherwise you wouldn't still be here with me."

Leia bit her lip. He was right, of course. She should have left as soon as she saw his state of undress, it wasn't decent and she knew it wasn't safe – not because of him, she trusted him to behave – but because of her own reaction.

"I don't want everyone talking about me behind my back. I need their respect and I won't get it if they think I'm some kind of…. slattern."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, what happens on the Falcon stays on the Falcon," it was a corny line, he knew, but women always seemed to fall for it.

"I'm not joking Han, I don't want to be just another one of your conquests."

He reached for her hand and pulled her down onto the seat beside him. As she slid in close, he took her other hand in his and assumed his most serious expression, "I promise you, I won't say a word to anyone." His voice shifted to a more seductive tone, "look we could all have been dead by now, you know we both want this, and I think we both deserve it, don't you?" He pulled her in close again, silencing her response with a kiss.

Something flipped inside Leia's head. Perhaps it was the thought of how close they had all come to being annihilated; perhaps it was just the feel of Han's large, warm, body close to hers; it didn't really matter. She wanted him; needed that feeling of intimacy. Afterwards he'd leave her, that was the kind of man he was, but right now she really didn't care.

Her hands were all over him; roaming urgently over his chest and down to the waistband of his sleep pants.

"Hey, slow down, sweetheart, what's the hurry?"

She didn't answer with words, just increased the urgency of her kiss. Han melted against her, his fingers tangling in her long hair. Somehow he managed to manoeuvre her on to his lap and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He could happily have taken her right there. He was hard and ready, and from the little moans in her throat he guessed she was too. The Falcon wouldn't have been his first choice of location for their first time together, but at least the bed in his cabin was comfortable; and big enough for two. Loosening an arm, he pushed himself up from the seat, his other arm holding her tightly to him.

Han strode along the corridor to his sleeping quarters, Leia still wrapped around him. She tipped her head back, giggling at the recklessness of her behaviour. This was such a bad idea, and such a good one at the same time. After what they had been through she craved the pleasure that could only come from complete, intense intimacy with another. It may be temporary, but it would be more satisfying than any of the artificial stimulants now being consumed at the rebel alliance celebration.

He hadn't realised just how badly he wanted her until that moment. It took all his self-control not to throw her down on the bed and jump her without pretence of foreplay. This was a moment to be savoured, one he would want to remember for the remainder of his life, however short or long that might be.

So he laid her down gently, kissing her face, her cheeks, her neck, as he slowly peeled the zipper of the grey crew overalls.

Leia closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the mattress. It wasn't quite how she'd imagined losing her virginity, but the soft care of Han's touch reassured her.

"Beautiful," murmured Han in a low voice as his rough hands roamed over her body. He caressed her delicate breasts, flicking her nipples until she moaned out loud. His mouth replaced his hands, allowing him to explore further. He pushed her legs apart and stroked the inside of her thighs.

Leia could barely contain the sensations flooding through her body. She wriggled and whimpered, desperate for him to touch her. "Please, please," she begged, her voice urgent and strangled.

Han lifted his head, his fingers resting tantalisingly close to her centre of pleasure. He gave her his trademark wicked grin, but his eyes were soft. There was no hint of triumph in them, just a suggestion of concern, as if he wanted reassurance from her that she wouldn't regret what they were about to do.

Leia smiled and gave the slightest nod of her head, as if giving him permission. He didn't need any further invitation. Pushing her legs a little further apart he began to explore in earnest, stroking her intimately, his fingers moving faster as she urged him on with low moans of pleasure. Then she was crying out as he slipped first one finger then another inside her.

Leia didn't know what she wanted; only that it was more than this. She thrust her hands into his short hair, as if to pull him towards her. Han got the message loud and clear. He kissed his way up her body, while at the same time wriggling out of his sleep pants.

Then he was inside her, moving slowly at first to give her time to adjust. She gasped at the feel of him, but her body knew what it wanted and she tilted her hips to give him better access. As he began to move, her legs found their way back around his waist, and she dug her fingers into his back.

Han could feel himself losing control as he thrust harder and deeper. He didn't want to hurt her, but the desire to claim her was overwhelming. She was his woman, however impossible and ridiculous that seemed. This went way beyond mere physical pleasure. He'd mocked Luke for his belief in the force, but now he wasn't so sure. He could feel an energy flowing between the two of them, heightening the pleasure, amplifying every sensation.

Leia felt it too. The brief stab of pain had passed quickly and now all she was aware of were the rivers of energy coursing through her body, making every part of her hyper-sensitive. She rocked her hips pulling him deeper, strengthening the connection between them. They moved as one, both out of control, straining towards the ultimate release.

Afterwards she lay stretched out on his bed. She made no effort to cover herself up. Han lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, his free hand softly tracing the contours of her face.

She stared up at the ceiling, unable to find the words to explain how she felt. The intensity of what she had just experienced frightened her. She couldn't deny her strong physical attraction to Han - that had become obvious almost as soon as they had met. She wasn't surprised to discover the pleasure he was capable of giving her. What she hadn't expected was to feel such an emotional connection, as if there was some kind of energy force flowing between them.

Han desperately wanted to know what thoughts were hidden behind those faraway eyes, but he didn't dare ask. Instead he switched back to the personality they were both familiar with, the outer shell that was his protection.

"Hope I didn't disappoint, princess," he quipped, raising an eyebrow and twisting his mouth into a grin.

"Of course not, you can add me to your list of satisfied customers." She was grateful for the opportunity to put some emotional distance between them.

"It's not like that, Leia, we both know it."

He rarely used her name and the sound of it gave her stomach a little flip.

"I know," she admitted reluctantly. "It's just that we've got bigger things to worry about. A distraction like this doesn't seem appropriate right now. "

"A distraction," Han snorted, "gee, thanks, princess. I'm glad it meant that much to you."

Leia sat up, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean it like that. Anyway I should be getting back." The mood had been shattered now and there was no getting it back.

"Fine," Han shrugged, swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for his clothes. They began to dress in an uncomfortable silence.

"Listen, Han…" Leia trailed off, quite unable to think of the appropriate thing to say.

"It doesn't matter. I guess I'll see you around." Han didn't look at her as she hurried out of his cabin and off his ship.

Leia was still fumbling with the zip of her overalls as she snuck down the ramp of the Falcon. She looked around furtively as she tightened her belt and hurried back to the safety of her quarters.

Unseen in the darkness, tone of the security guards cursed as he handed over a wad of credits to his companion. "Who'da thought it," he cursed, "I had her down as pure ice princess…

It took all of three standard hours for the news to spread around the base.

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><p>Leia slept; unaware that she had become the hottest topic of conversation on the moon of Endor. She dreamed of the lakeside shelter where she had played as a child, but this time she was sharing the cushioned couch with her lover, Han Solo. She felt at peace for the first time in an age.<p>

Han lay awake. He bitterly regretted the way they had parted. He wasn't usually so awkward but somehow she had that effect on him. He wondered how he was going to explain to the Princess that he had to leave, and that it wasn't certain he would make it back. She would blame him for not telling her beforehand. The guilt weighed heavy on him.

Han spent most of the next day working on the Falcon. It wasn't that she was in bad shape, he told himself, but it made sense to ensure that everything was as good as it could be, in case they needed to make a quick exit from Tatooine once Jabba had been paid off. He had some ideas for some modifications that would improve her speed and manoeuvrability, and he wanted to make the cloaking device more reliable.

The rebels had some great diagnostic expertise that he could use; he might as well take advantage.

Chewie grumbled through the day. He thought they were prevaricating, and that they needed to get back to pay off Jabba before it was too late. Everyone knew that the Empire would find this base sooner rather than later and he didn't want to risk getting caught up in a mass evacuation.

Central command were indeed focussed on finding a new base, one which was as remote as possible. Leia joined General Reiken in the command centre. It took her a while to realise that the glances and nudges were aimed at her, but the longer she stayed, the more her discomfort grew.

When Luke came in and took one look at her before turning on his heel to stalk off, she knew there was something seriously wrong. She headed after him, finally catching up as he stomped into the Mess Hall.

"How could you, Leia?" he stormed as he tried and failed to shake her hand from his arm. "You know he's not to be trusted. He's a scoundrel, you said so yourself."

Leia felt herself blush bright red. Releasing Luke from her grip she ran out into the corridor, tears pricking at her eyes. How could she have been such a fool. Han certainly hadn't wasted any time boasting of his conquest. She'd really thought she meant something to him but she was just another trophy. She would just have to tough it out though; she wouldn't let him beat her. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she headed back to the command centre, throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high, defying anyone to say anything.

Han waited for her that night, and the next. He'd been sure she would come back, whatever she had said about their relationship being an unnecessary distraction. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of her white senator's robes sweeping through the cargo bay. She always had a small entourage, tall creatures from worlds across the galaxy, towering over her delicate frame.

He had no idea that he was the second most talked about person on the base. Chewie was the only person he saw during the day, and he was by nature a loner, not one to listen to gossip. The Wookie was growing more and more agitated. He was probably the only person on the base who didn't know what had happened between the Captain and the Princess and was unable to understand why they weren't leaving.

He was still wondering, and cursing in equal measure, when the order came to evacuate. The ice planet of Hoth was the destination, on the other side of the galaxy. A huge imperial fleet was on its way, determined to extract revenge for the loss of the Death Star and its crew. There was no question of the Falcon leaving alone. They would have to go with the rebels and then make their way back to Tatooine later.

The Falcon was one of the last ships to leave the moon. Han delayed as long as he could, hoping that maybe Leia would seek him out and travel with him. In the end though, he and Chewie were the sole occupants as they made the jump into hyperspace. His instincts told him that there were going to be consequences of the decisions he'd made, and he wasn't sure that they were going to be positive, but even so, he couldn't bring himself to regret what had happened. Leia was special, and whatever happened, he wanted to be there for her, as long as he could.

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><p><em><strong>I'm so grateful to the small group of readers who have supported this story. Special mentions go to <strong>__jzhanfan__** who is my favourite Star Wars fanfic writer, so it was a real boost to get positive feedback. Also to **__Jaxny__**, who is always generous and encouraging – it's nice to have an SVM reader broadminded enough to read outside that fandom.**_


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